A Dark Congregation
by Thegirlsmiles
Summary: On a cold day in March, Roger deals with the sudden loss and an emergence of guilt.


**Author's Note**: Hey everyone. I'm brand new to fanfic but a long time lurker. I'm pretty obsessed with RENT and especially Roger/April. The song is _A Dark Congregation_ by the Hush Sound. Anyway, enjoy … comment and I'll love you forever.

_A dark congregation  
Of familiar faces  
Gathered around the quiet earth  
A red rose  
Fell upon the soft snow  
Prayers were whispered so slow  
From our mouths_

Do you remember that time when we met your parents? Thank God it was November and we wore long sleeves. Don't you remember scratching our track marks all the way to New Jersey on the train? We tried so hard to abstain that weekend. Ha. Remember when you conveniently forgot to tell me that your dad was a professor at fucking Princeton and how your brother made me play basketball with him for four hours? And then he kicked my ass. I felt so inadequate that weekend. You made it up to me that night, in your parent's house no less. You were crazy like that.

Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is that I never thought I'd run into them again. Especially in March, no less than a few months after we had met for the first time. I've always hated winter, you know that. I never remember it being that cold but on that day it was fucking freezing. I had never heard the city so quiet. It was eerie. The noise and the crowds were some of the things that really attracted me to the city in the first place. The crowds were never an issue. I mean, you could be all alone and nobody would care because they were so busy with their own life. Speaking of being alone babe, we fought so hard to have you rest there, of course your parents pushed Princeton. I don't even know how Mark convinced them to have the funeral in the City, something about all your "friends" at Columbia that would come by weekly to pay their respects and how your paintings were here and how you should be buried with or at least by them.

The day we buried you, I brought roses. So I could lay them on your grave. You loved roses. Loved. I can't believe I have to talk about you in past tense. The pain of you leaving is still too real, even after all these months. Baby, why did you have to leave? We could've worked it out. Your parents … they'd understand. Somehow. I remember how shaken up they were at the funeral … your mother was so pale. They would've understood, April, I just know it. Anything would've been better than what you did. It was just so permanent. Like the pain that would go on your canvas … remember how you used to do everything in pencil? Why suicide … why so permanent?

The thing that offended me the most about the funeral was when we prayed. I know you wouldn't have approved. You never spoke highly on organized religion. But there you were being lowered into the ground and we prayed. The Lord is my Shepard and all that metaphorical bull shit. Your mother sobbed hysterically … God I can still hear her today. Your father and brother stood there, one on each arm to support your mom, just stoically staring. Mark held Maureen, and I just stared at the winter ground. I would've rather held you. I stared at the plot you were going to lie in. Forever. I remember how I closed my eyes like the rest of them, but I didn't pray. You know I don't believe in God. What kind of great and loving being would create pain, suffering, and HIV?

_Our breath rose in the cold, like a hundred souls escaping_

_  
Save me, I'm swallowed by the guilt of this (You're gone)  
Sleeping in the dust  
We will not let time erase us_

And I think the worst part about this, April, is how you thought it was all your fault that we got AIDS. No, baby, it wasn't like that. I was the one who got you into the stuff. I was the one who said it could "relax" you after finals. I told you that sex was better if you were high. And true, some of it was you. It was you who caught my eye at the show at CBGB's but ultimately it was my decision that I couldn't live without you. My decision to come up by the bar and say hello after the show. And God, what an excellent decision that was. Seriously baby, it was the best decision I've ever made. But now … I'm alone. And it's my entire fault.

_We are surrounded  
By all of the quiet  
Sleepers inside the quiet earth  
A fear that  
I cannot shape, you  
Dared to kiss the face  
Of the night_

_Our lips were cold as clay, we couldn't speak anyway_

It's November. It's been exactly a year from when I met the parents. I finished rehab, babe. I can't believe I did it. And I came home and I felt like you were going to be there to hug and kiss me and tell me how proud of me you were. You were always trying to get us to quit. We never did. And when I came home, all excited to tell you, you weren't there. And I remembered. So I came to you and I brought roses. Again. It's quiet here. Your parents picked a good place. I just … can't stop thinking about how I came home after practice, to the loft, and there you were in the bathtub. I remember holding you, crying, kissing your cold cold lips, hoping to wake you up. The paramedics came like four hours after Mark called, to take you away. And I remember screaming when you were gone. After that, I didn't speak until I came home from rehab. I talk now, but only out of necessity.

_Save me, I'm swallowed by the guilt of this (You're gone)  
Sleeping in the dust  
We will not let time erase us  
We, we are alone  
I know you're gone_

You're alone wherever you are. I'm alone in this loft. You told me to find glory. I remember all of those nights, when we were in bed, and talking about our hopes and dreams. And you said that I had to go out and find that one song that would bring me glory. Baby … that song was you.


End file.
